Chapter Twenty: Turnabout
"I caught them trying to escape through the ducts, Captain," Malcolm said as he shunted Trip and Hoshi into Archer's ready-room. "Ensign Sato somehow shorted out the locking mechanism."
Archer had been examining some documents of some sort on his computer terminal. A dark expression furrowed his brow and glittered in his eyes as he looked up from his work. "Really," he said. "Lieutenant, I had no idea your security measures were so easily bypassed."
Malcolm stiffened. "Sir," he said. "There is nothing –"
But Archer didn't let him continue his explanation. He was out of his chair and across the room in an instant, staring down at the much shorter officer before him with a particularly contemptuous expression rippling across his features. When he spoke, though, his voice was low and soft … which made it somehow all the more ominous than if he had been shouting. "Where were your security guards, Lieutenant? Where were you? Didn't you think your prisoner's woman would be a security risk? Why wasn't she under observation? Are you that hopelessly inefficient, Malcolm?"
Malcolm stared straight ahead of him, but he didn't have the emotional control he was trying desperately to grasp. Trip could see him flinching with every accusation.
"I am very disappointed in you, Mr. Reed," Captain Archer said, his voice frosty.
"Sir," Malcolm said. His voice sounded strangled.
"And you, Ensign," Captain Archer said gently.
Hoshi raised her chin and stared defiantly into Archer's face. "Yes, Captain."
"You've sacrificed everything to save the man you love from ignominy and death," Archer said, his voice like a caress. "How romantic of you …"
She closed her eyes briefly, fighting back loathing.
"Unfortunately, your empty gesture has, indeed, cost you everything," Archer said. He turned to Malcolm. "Take Ms. Sato to the brig."
"Yes, sir," Malcolm said. He glanced, questioningly, in Trip's direction.
"No," Archer said. "I want to talk to Mr. Tucker alone."
Malcolm looked for a moment as though he would have liked to protest. Then he turned to exit the room.
As he passed Trip on his way to the door, he turned sharply and grabbed him, one hand at the small of his back and the other gripping him by the shoulder. His palm and fingers scraped over the handcuffs as he took hold of him, and Trip felt a sudden weight thrust between his wrists, a slight difference in pressure. Then Malcolm kneed him, swiftly, in the stomach. "That's for getting me into this situation," he growled. Then he grabbed Hoshi roughly by the arm and dragged her out of the room.
The pain was startling and explosive; but as Trip stood there, gasping, he realized that there were compensations, like the phase pistol between his wrists and back and the little key that Malcolm had left in the locking mechanism of the cuffs. He was careful to keep the gun out of view of Archer, though.
"You must forgive our friend Malcolm," Archer was saying in a cloying drawl. "After all, your escape has cost him a lot ..."
"It's not his fault," Trip said.
"Oh, really?" Archer snorted. "He's been outsmarted. I don't need a tactical officer who can be so readily out-thought."
"He did catch us," Trip pointed out, fumbling at the key with his thumbs, trying to get it to turn. "There's no sense in wasting resources."
Archer was inches away from him now, staring into his face. "I still haven't figured you out, Trip," he said quietly. "Where were you going to run to, on a ship this size?"
"I told you I was just trying to get home," Trip said. "But you didn't believe me, did you?" He laughed, to mask the clicking sound as the key turned in the lock.
"I'm afraid I can't be lenient with you this time, Mr. Tucker," said the captain, shaking his head as though the admission caused him great pain. "You're too slippery for the brig."
"Clap me in irons?" Trip suggested.
"Somehow I get the feeling that you're not taking this very seriously, Commander," Archer said, his voice suddenly very hard. "You think you're going to get out of this alive, don't you?" He laughed, coldly. "Well, let me assure you, you're right. I'm sure that Doctor Singerra will find all sorts of entertaining ways of keeping you alive … but I'm equally certain that you're not going to be enjoying it."
"On the contrary, Cap'n," Trip said, exaggerating his own Southern accent with dramatic flair as he shrugged his wrists and the handcuffs crashed to the ground. He whipped the phase pistol around and pressed it against Archer's chest, flashing his most charming grin as he backed the other man up against the wall of his readyroom. "I am taking this matter very seriously indeed."
